


Michael Who You Don't Know

by CupcakeOfAwesomeness



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alyssa is 7/11 girl confirmed, but spoiler alert i don't kill any of them, except depression then hits him like a bus, michael is socially anxious and not depressed, uh as this goes on there's a lot of suicide talk and contemplation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-03-29 08:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13923615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeOfAwesomeness/pseuds/CupcakeOfAwesomeness
Summary: that one where Michael is definitely socially anxious but definitely not depressed.(a silly(?) fic where I inject my own feelings and experiences into my favourite character from my favourite musical)(what a terrible person I am)





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn that Michael was not depressed until he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes this prologue is very very short that's why I posted the first two chapters on the same day you fools

Michael Mell was not depressed.

It was a ridiculous thought, really. Michael wasn't suicidal; Michael _loved_ life. He loved the nineties and wished he could've spent more time in that era, but it didn't make him wish he wasn't alive _today_. High school was wack, but it wasn't something that made him want to die. Not that Michael’s mental state was anything perfect—he definitely had social anxiety, he wasn't going to deny that. People terrified the _shit_ out of him and he would rather drown out the world in Bob Marley than confront the idea of talking with someone.

(Of course, Jeremy didn't count as a Someone. Jeremy, who he had been best friends with for a full _twelve fucking years_ , was his safe space. He could be himself around Jeremy. He could talk to Jeremy and sometimes he could even talk to other people when he was with Jeremy. Jeremy was more than a Someone.)

But depression was a faraway thought. It was a place that Michael had never visited and never would. It was an impossibility, a reality that he would never experience. He often considered himself lucky, as depression and anxiety so often went hand in hand. He didn't want to kill himself and that was a blessing. People terrified him, but he was honestly fine.

Until he found himself alone in a bathroom on Halloween and suddenly he came to a profound realization...

Michael Mell was definitely depressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Yes, I have another work-in-progress bmc fanfic where Jeremy is a T1D but now I'm starting this new one where Michael is going through my experience of realizing I'm probably depressed! So if you want to read a fanfic where Michael is v socially anxious and in denial about his depression until he feels like dying and then goes through a long process of healing and might date Jeremy eventually maybe idk if this'll become boyf riends or not THEN THIS IS THE RIGHT FANFIC FOR YOU! (Also yes, Michael doesn't really know at first that depression is more than being suicidal but he learns :)))))
> 
> Basically, I went through being anxious-without-knowing-I-was-anxious for years and then I've been "officially" anxious for about two and a half years now maybe and this past summer depression hit me like a bus and I haven't been formally diagnosed as being depressed and since I'm anxious sometimes I'm worried that I'm not depressed but I feel like actually dying sometimes so you know ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I like writing about characters in pain and this past December I got super into Be More Chill and I adore Michael and so I decided to project my feelings onto him! 
> 
> Now time for you to read the next chapter to actually see if you like this or not lol


	2. Rad and Frantic Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is anxious but is not depressed. Jeremy is anxious and is also depressed. Jeremy takes a pill to help himself. In the process, he leaves Michael behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is here and has far more meat on its bones so read this to properly see if you might potentially enjoy this fanfic
> 
> Alyssa was meant to only be in that one one section where she and Michael have a funny 7/11 conversation but oh look how she's taken over XD she's everywhere

The bus was stressful. Too many people, too much noise, too many nerves, too much too many too much. The morning bus he can handle a bit better—everyone is tired and dreading school, so it's quieter—but he still sits alone today, pulling his hood up over his headphones and playing music loudly to drown out his worries. He didn't move when Jeremy got on the bus and didn't sit with him. He wasn't ready to talk yet and, from the look on his face, Jeremy wasn't either.

Jeremy shared the feeling of being Anxious As Heck. He and Michael were both filled with anxieties, but they were each other's safe spaces; they were not afraid around each other. Jeremy was still far more awkward than Michael, he didn't play off his anxiety as well, and that didn't matter. Anxiety was different in everyone, because everyone was different. But Jeremy was mildly depressed too. (Mildly according to Jeremy; Michael couldn't judge Jeremy's feelings for him.) Not that it was something Michael saw him as  _less than_ for being—Michael just couldn't relate as well to that side of his feelings. He didn't need to relate though; he just needed to be there and  _understand_.

And what he understood, from Jeremy's face as they sat on the bus, is that he was in a thoughtful place. A sad sort of thoughtful. A place that Michael didn't need to intrude on yet. So they simply sat, waiting to arrive at their dreaded destination.

* * *

The stereotype of a shy or anxious person sitting in the very back of the class did not ring true with Michael. If you sat at the back, when the teacher called on you or you made a noise, everyone had to turn around to look. The very idea of all of those heads  _turning_ to face him made him sick to his stomach.

So Michael sat at the very front.

This way, there was no head turning. People were already facing forwards, there was no need to turn. If he needed to ask the teacher something, he didn't need to raise his hand as high. Not that he would  _ever_ ask a question in class—it was mortifying to think about. Plus, a select few, not-quite-as-lame teachers would let him keep his hood up during class if he sat near the front, so they could still see his face, but he didn't feel the agonizing stares of his classmates.

His favourite teacher, Ms. Minto, allowed him to do all of these things. She would even routinely ask him softly how he was doing and offered her help instead of making him ask for it. She didn't even care that sometimes he came to school reeking with the smell of weed. He swore Ms. Minto was an angel on Earth.

* * *

There was a 7/11 right across from the school, so Michael naturally took advantage of that. It was cheaper than buying lunch from the cafeteria and frankly tasted better. Besides, any place with slushies was his kind of place. Though, he liked this specific 7/11 best, because it had Alyssa.

Alyssa was the usual cashier and she was one of the weirdest people he had ever had the pleasure of meeting—she was also a safe person. She was outgoing and talkative and funny and always had strange stories about her and her friends and was always ready to share and she just felt _comfortable_. She didn't force him to talk and she didn't mind if he was anxious, but she had that aura about her where you just felt comfortable around her. Michael could talk to her and not second (or third or fourth) guess himself too much. She was his friend. She wasn't Jeremy, but she was safe.

Today, she had stories of how she had initiated two of her friends into her new bread cult (it involved Spider-Man rings and Paw Patrol temporary tattoos apparently), how one of her friends had seen a used condom on the floor and tried to blow it up like a balloon (“How could she not know what a _condom_ looked like?”), and how she had witnessed someone propose on a bus and tried not to laugh as he got rejected (“His fault for proposing on a _bus_ honestly; I mean, not the most romantic choice, man.”). She gave him new musical suggestions and let him have a larger size of slushie at no extra cost. (“Family and friends discount,” she said with a wink, “like what the old guy at the Bible store gave me when I bought the aids book.” Michael had stopped asking questions a long time ago.) As he paid for his slushie and negimaki rolls, he exchanged his own stories with her, talking about what weird things he had thought about when high (“Wow, like, if I knew anything about weed I think I'd be impressed? But that just sounds like my inner monologue 24/7.”), how he and Jeremy had _almost_ beat level nine on Apocalypse of the Damned (Alyssa told him stories of how she and her friends couldn't even beat CPUs on easy, so he felt a bit better), and how earlier that day a bully at school had written “riends” on his backpack for some reason (“I am going to name my firstborn child Riends now you can't stop me Michael.”). It was pleasant and Michael's anxiety from earlier was lessened.

However, Michael was eager to get back to school so he could talk with Jeremy, perhaps to exchange some of the strange stories Alyssa had told or tell him about what he had seen on Discovery Channel. He quickly paid Alyssa and bid her goodbye, laughing as she called after him, “Bring Jeremy next time! I want to initiate him into the bread cult!”

His mood having drastically improved from the morning bus ride, Michael headed towards the cafeteria with a skip in his step and a Bob Marley song blasting in his ears. Almost as soon as he entered, a yell reached his ears over his music. “Michael!”

Michael grinned, flipping off his hood (though he kept his headphones on for now; the song was almost over and Marley was not worth skipping). “Jeremy!”

They did their silly handshake (which they had created years ago but still used—it was fun and kind of sentimental) and Jeremy rolled his eyes endearingly as Michael subtly bounced along to the music Jeremy couldn't hear. “You're listening to Bob Marley again, aren't you?”

Michael gave him a knowing grin and a sassy wave of his finger to keep him quiet. “The song’s almost over,” he said, listening to the last couple verses as Jeremy flipped his middle finger at him. Then he pushed back his headphones and looked Jeremy up and down, a slightly worried eyebrow raise appearing over his playful smile. “You look like ass. What's wrong?”

Jeremy took off his backpack, glaring at it angrily. “Boyf? What does that even mean?”

Michael shrugged, taking a sip of his slushie. That made just as much sense as the Riends that was on his—oh.

 _Oh_.

He took off his backpack and examined it disappointedly. He held it next to Jeremy's, then moved to the other side. _Boyfriends_. Michael's shoulders drooped in exasperation. Neither of the boys were homophobic—Michael found that it was slightly hard to be homophobic when you were gay yourself—but it was slightly irritating for someone to announce that you were dating your best friend when you most certainly were _not_.

“I hate this school,” Jeremy muttered as he swung his backpack around his shoulder again. “Oh! But I wrote Christine a letter, telling her how I feel!”

Michael grinned. “That's progress!”

“Yeah, I tore it up and flushed it!”

“Eugh,” Michael mumbled, taking another sip of his slushie. He was immensely supportive of Jeremy's quest to win Christine's heart, but that seemed a bit pathetic even to him. However, he wouldn't have even been able to muster the courage to write such a note in the first place, so he supposed he shouldn't be so hypocritical.

“It's still progress,” Jeremy protested.

“It's all good,” Michael assured him quickly. Now was a good a time as ever to tell him what he saw on the Discovery Channel. Jeremy seemed dubious as Michael explained it. “Come on, this just means that there's never been a better time to be a loser! So we might as well own it. Why try to be what society deems as cool when you could be—”

“Signing up for the play!” Jeremy exclaimed in awe.

“I was gonna say getting stoned in my basement, but,” Michael shrugged, taking another swig of his drink. He knew that Jeremy had been tempted by drama class for a few years now, so maybe now he was finally going to try to combat his anxiety.

“No, I mean look who's signing up for the play!” Jeremy said, grabbing Michael's arm and pointing excitedly.

Michael followed his finger. Christine Canigula, Jeremy's long-time crush, had just written her name down on the sign-up sheet, adding hearts to dot the i's. “Dude, you should sign up too.”

“But,” Jeremy fidgeted, “people will just call me gay. Not that that's a _bad_ thing to be! But it's just...” He gave Michael an anxious look that Michael knew well. “Attention.”

“Jeremy,” Michael said, solemnly placing his free hand on Jeremy's shoulder, “if you're going to be in the school play, _all_ the attention will be on you anyways.” Jeremy shuffled uncomfortably. “Look, maybe Christine is just the push you need. You've wanted to join drama for ages. Now you have a new reason to join.” Michael frowned. “On one hand though, you shouldn't force yourself into something you're not comfortable with. On the other hand, exposure is a good thing for anxiety? Or so my mom tells me. Constantly.” He took another sip of his slushie and shrugged. “Either way, I'll be supporting you a hundred percent, you know that, right?”

“Thanks, Michael,” Jeremy whispered, glancing from his friend to the sign-up sheet. He bit his lip, deeply in thought, and finally said, “I'm going to sign up.”

“I am so fucking jealous of your courage right now,” Michael said. “Make me proud, Jer.”

* * *

 _Finally_ , school was over. Michael had waited around for Jeremy to finish up with play rehearsal (he and Alyssa had another strange conversation at 7/11, this time involving how her best friend's cousin had tried to murder her with free pizza) and then they had headed back to Jeremy's, 7/11 snacks in hand and determination in their hearts. It was time for them to try yet again to beat the ninth level of Apocalypse of the Damned.

As soon as they'd started the game and flopped onto their bean bags, Jeremy immediately began to launch into a story about what had happened when he went to the bathroom after play rehearsal. “—and it helps you to be better!” Jeremy seemed both excited and hesitant at the aspect of such a thing. “What do you think about it?”

Michael couldn't help but scoff. “He's scamming you! Scamming you super weirdly.”

“But what if he's not?” Jeremy insisted. “Dude, think about it! I would know what to do. Like, no more anxiety!”

“Can a _pill_ really get rid of your anxiety?” Michael asked dubiously, glancing between Jeremy and the tv screen as he tried to beat digital zombies and give sage advice simultaneously. “I mean, even antidepressants and stuff can't fully get rid of anything. That's why you have a therapist, dude.”

“That's why you _need_ a therapist, dude,” Jeremy retorted, nudging his friend with a tone that was joking, but Michael knew that it'd probably be good for him. “Susan says I'm doing better than when I first came in. But whatever, I'm just saying,” he added, quickly going back to the idea of a pill that could help him be cooler, “all I have to do is give the guy... who torments me... six... _hundred_...” He looked over at Michael in despair. “Yeah, he's totally scamming me. But I'm doomed to be a loser for the rest of time! Probably after then too.”

“You said yourself that Susan said you were doing better,” Michael pointed out, “and if you're doing better _mentally_ —” he tapped Jeremy's head, causing Jeremy to laugh and bat his hand away “—then you'll second-guess yourself less and be less awkward and everyone will be able to see who I see.” He paused the game and looked Jeremy in the eyes. “A fucking _amazing_ dork with cool interests and a big heart. What's not to like, y'know?” He swallowed as he felt an overwhelming sense of opia. He shifted his gaze so that he wasn't looking into Jeremy's eyes as much. “Besides, high school is hell—everyone is judgemental and self-absorbed and ‘cool’ is determined by social standing. But in college, _we're_ the cool kids.” He grinned at his friend, motioning for a fist bump.

“I guess,” Jeremy sighed, giving Michael a very lackluster fist bump. “But I just... want to be able to not be such a loser now. High school is _shit_ , you're totally right, but if we have to endure it, why should it suck so much?” Before Michael could say anything, Jeremy said, seemingly hit with an epiphany, “Rich... said his hook-up was at Payless, right? What if we went there ourselves?” At Michael’s dubious look, he quickly added, “Just to see if his story checks out!”

“And if it does?” Michael asked, suddenly seeming melancholy. “Will you be too cool for m—” He looked down at the video game controller in his hand, biting his lip. The thought hurt Michael too much to even say aloud. “For video games?” he finished instead, unpausing their game and staring intently at the screen.

“No way, man,” Jeremy said, smiling fondly in a way that told Michael he understood what he had meant. He reached over and tapped the pause button on Michael’s controller. “You know that you’re my favourite person, right? That’ll never change; you’re the only person I can be myself around. I just... want to be able to learn how to be myself around other people too. So they can see the ‘fucking dork’ I am, right?”

“Is it really true?” Michael asked, slowly leaning towards Jeremy and finishing his thought in a sing-songy voice. “I’m your faaavouwite person?”

Jeremy laughed and flipped his middle finger towards Michael, gently shoving him away. “We’re never not gonna be a team. Life is a two player game and I can’t be player two without a player one, dude.”

Michael smiled softly and he felt a heaviness in his chest that had nothing to do with anxiety.

* * *

Michael sat in the food court, completely bewildered. He and Jeremy had gone to the mall to check out Payless, where they had met an incredibly scary stockboy who had given Jeremy a SQUIP for four hundred dollars. They had stopped in the food court to grab some Mountain Dew, as apparently that was the only way to get the pill to work, and chili fries, as Jeremy was hungry. The pill had been a dud and Jeremy, obviously disappointed, had told Michael to “leave me to mourn in my chili fries.” So Michael had gone over to Spencer’s Gifts, where he had been told about someone who could hook him up with a case of Crystal Pepsi. He had been gone for five minutes, perhaps ten at the most. (He had been caught up talking with his hook-up, some guy named Louis Junior. He had heard of this guy through Alyssa, who had heard of him through her friend from youth group, who had heard of him through a friend from a completely different church. Apparently, dealing discontinued nineties soft drinks was the church version of dealing drugs.) But now, he had returned to their spot in the food court to find that Jeremy was gone.

At first, he had assumed that Jeremy had just left to get rid of his tray or go to the bathroom. Then fifteen minutes had gone by and still no sign of the boy. Michael had texted him about a hundred question marks and several long messages asking where he was and filled with all of the little things that Michael knew Jeremy found annoying. Finally, he left it with a text that said, “ _pls come back im anxious sitting here alone :(_ ”

* * *

Ten minutes later.

* * *

Fifteen minutes after that.

* * *

_Another twenty minutes pass._

* * *

Jeremy doesn’t come back.

* * *

Michael shoved his hood and headphones on. He grabbed his case of Crystal Pepsi and started to blare music loudly in his ears. He stared at the floor the whole way but managed to navigate himself out of the mall. He sat in the driver’s seat of his PT Cruiser, checking his phone one final time and found no new messages. He stared at the steering wheel for a moment.

Jeremy had left him alone at the mall.

The same Jeremy who couldn't seem to form coherent sentences around anyone except for Michael. The same Jeremy who _knew_ that Michael was anxious about being alone for too long at the mall. The same Jeremy who had just confessed barely over an hour ago that Michael was his favourite person.

He shouldn't jump to conclusions, despite everything his brain was screaming at him. ( _Jeremy hated him now, Jeremy had been kidnapped, Jeremy had DIED._ ) Jeremy probably felt sick after ingesting a random pill and had gone home and... didn't tell Michael... even though... Michael was his ride...

He must've felt _really_ sick.

* * *

Michael hadn't woken up in time to catch the bus.

Well, he actually had, but... he hadn't. It was a strange feeling that he hadn't really felt before. He had woken up groggily and stared at his ceiling and just... kept staring. He had no energy, which wasn't exactly _unusual_ that early in the morning, but it was... different. He felt a sense of nothingness. A nothingness that somehow made his bedsheets heavier and his limbs not respond to his control. This nothingness forced him to stare at his ceiling and refused to let him out of bed.

He finally was able to force himself up into a sitting position about half an hour later, but he still felt heavy and numb and it took him a minute of contemplating his blurry surrounds before he reached for his glasses. He got dressed and ate breakfast as quickly as he could and ran out to his car. He still had time to get to school. He kept telling himself this as he gripped the steering wheel, staring at nothing for a few more minutes before starting the car. Whatever strange feelings he was feeling now, he knew for a fact that if he arrived late, he wouldn't enter the building at all. In his anxious mind, being late was far worse than not going at all. (Jeremy had covered for him many a time when he had gotten to the building a few moments after the bell and couldn't will himself to go inside. He usually would go hang out at 7/11 until the next class, or just skip school entirely if it was a particularly bad day.)

He arrived at school with two and a half minutes to spare and, during his rush to get to class before the bell, didn't see Jeremy until lunch.

* * *

He made his usual 7/11 run (Alyssa wasn't there today and he ended up spilling coins all over the floor because of how anxious he felt in the presence of an unfamiliar cashier) and then sat down at his usual spot to wait for Jeremy. He and Jeremy usually sat on some steps near the band room, as hardly anybody came down there during lunch and he and Jeremy were two anxious losers. Sometimes one of the bands would have lunchtime practices and they could hear them butchering Mission Impossible or the Spider-Man Theme Song. The grade eight band was always great joke material, but the senior band was just great background music. Today, it was the jazz band, playing a tune that Michael couldn't name, but they weren't terrible and he enjoyed the muffled tune. He expected that, when Jeremy finally arrived, he would enjoy it too.

However, Jeremy never came.

Michael finished his lunch and sat alone and waited. He waited and texted Jeremy sad face emojis and waited and waited. He waited until anxiety was so tight in his chest that he thought he would explode. He waited and waited until he needed to book it up to the third floor for his next class.

He kept his eyes open for the boy as he made his way upstairs and stopped dead in his tracks when he passed the cafeteria. There was Jeremy Heere— _wearing an Eminem shirt of all things?_ —sitting at a table in the middle of the crowded cafeteria with Chloe Valentine and Brooke Lohst, laughing and smiling and looking completely confident in himself. He almost went to confront him— _why hadn't he sat with Michael?_ —to ask what was up— _he could've at least_ told _Michael that he wouldn't eat with him today_ —to ask where he had disappeared to the day before— _and why hadn't he answered any of his texts_ —but he didn't have much time left to get to class and he couldn't be late— _he couldn't be late!_ —so he continued on his way, breathing fast and chest tight.

* * *

_Jeremy must've hated him._

_Michael must've done something wrong._

_Jeremy must've been brainwashed._

_Michael must be dreaming._

Jeremy must be an asshole.

Michael had no clue what was going on with Jeremy fucking Heere, but something was going on. They had their fourth block class together (Social Studies 11 with the most hated teacher in the entire school, Mr. Ward) and they sat together. The seating was assigned. There were eight groups of four desks in a row. Their row went: Jenna Rolan, Jeremy, himself, and then this kid, Mark something, who was an over-the-top Christian kid and only spoke to them if he wanted to evangelize. So he and Jeremy would always speak in hushed whispers during the class, making fun of their weird teacher or discussing video games or some interesting thing that had happened in their third block class. But today, Jeremy acted as if Michael wasn't even there.

As Mr. Ward went through the attendance, unironically butchering several students’ names (“Leela?” “It's Lila.”), Michael gave Jeremy a nudge. Jeremy didn't even flinch. (“Jaycee?” The girl beside Lila mumbled about how her name was Jayce, but the teacher didn't hear her. Several other students corrected him loudly. Michael didn't think it was going to help.) Michael glanced at Jeremy, who was flipping through the textbook, and he waved his hand in front of Jeremy's face. Still nothing. (Mr. Ward said something completely incoherent at this point. Michael could not believe this man was real. A boy at the back of the class piped up about how that was his Chinese name and he only went by his English name, Tyler. The teacher ignored him.) Michael said Jeremy's name as loudly as he could without the teacher noticing (which admittedly wasn't too hard with this particular teacher) and Jeremy still ignored him. He slumped back in his seat as the lesson began.

“Hey, Michael.” Michael glanced over at Mark, surprised he was talking to him during the stupid historical movie Mr. Ward was forcing them to watch. “Are you and Jeremy having a falling out?”

“No,” Michael said firmly, though he didn't fully believe it. He didn't know what was going on with Jeremy, but he could only hope that it all went away tomorrow.

“It seems like you are.”

“Mind your own business, Mark, or I'll start swearing in the name of Jesus,” Michael threatened, hoping the boy didn't realize there was an anxious waver in his voice. It was _so hard_ to talk to people. Thankfully, Mark abruptly backed down.

Michael couldn't help but wonder if Mark was right. Maybe it was just anxiety talking, yet Jeremy was definitely ignoring him. There was no other explanation. Jeremy was ignoring him and Michael was being ignored. What if they _were_ having a falling out? What would Michael do without his best friend?

Most importantly, why couldn't Michael think of a reason that Jeremy would be suddenly ignoring him?

* * *

It was after play rehearsal. Michael had stayed late after school to print off the stupid book report for Socials, then he had gotten caught up talking with Ms. Minto and Mr. Tucker (who was runner-up for the best teacher ever title, right behind Ms. Minto, because in eighth grade, he had taught a unit about racism _and_ a unit about conspiracy theories, and it had been the best English class Michael had to date). They were two of the few teachers he'd had that had actually _cared_ about him and seen him as a _person_ , opposed to just another annoying student, another face in the classroom. Somehow, English teachers were always the best teachers. He still felt a bit anxious having conversation with them, but they were kind and patient and did most of the talking, so he enjoyed it. He had just said goodbye to them and dropped off his assignment in the Socials classroom, when he turned the corner and saw Jeremy Heere. He ignored him and kept walking, expecting to be ignored right back.

" _Michael?_ ”

Michael stopped dead in his tracks. This was the first time Jeremy had recognized his existence all day. He felt his heart leap in his chest for a moment, and then he felt anger surge up in its place. Jeremy had ignored him _all day_. What gave him the right to do that? Michael turned right back around.

“Wait, Michael, where’ve you been all day?”

Michael couldn't help it. He spun on his heel dramatically to face Jeremy again. “ _Oh really?_ ” he asked sardonically. “So _you're_ not the one who's been ignoring _me_? _Sure_ , Jeremy.”

“Ignoring you?” Jeremy seemed genuinely confused and Michael hated it. “But I haven't even _seen_ you since—” He cut himself off and went silent.

Michael didn't care about whatever excuses he was trying to come up with. Well, he did, but he wasn't going to give Jeremy to satisfaction of knowing he still cared after the stuff he did today. Or, rather, the stuff he _didn't_ do. It was kinda weird that Jeremy was just standing there and going through different facial expressions though. It was as if he was talking to somebody in his head.

“Jeremy? What is _wrong_ with you? You ignore me _all day_ today, you _ditched_ me yesterday _at the mall_ , and now you're doing whatever the hell you're doing—” Michael threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Do you have _any idea_ how anxious you've made me? I mean, you should have a good guess, since we both have anxiety, but today you've been acting like you’ve been miraculously healed or—! Or something...” Michael trailed off, his eyes going wide.

Yesterday, Jeremy had ditched Michael after they had thought the whole SQUIP thing was a dud—or so they had thought. What if, after Michael had left to grab his Crystal Pepsi, the SQUIP had a delayed activation? It was supposed to be a computer in your head that told you what to do, according to Rich and the stockboy at Payless, so maybe... maybe Jeremy actually _was_ talking to someone in his head.

“It worked, didn't it?” Michael asked, a hint of anger still in his voice. “It worked and so, what, you decide to ignore me all day? The four hundred dollar supercomputer pill works and you don't tell your _best friend_? Wow, _rude_!” He let out a sigh, trying to get his bearings. Then he forced a smile onto his face. “Jer, that's really cool! It really is.” _It really wasn't._ “We should, uh, we should celebrate or something!” _No they shouldn't._ “We could get stoned in my basement,” he added in a sing-songy voice, attempting to make the offer sound tempting.

Michael hated— _HATED_ —the fact that Jeremy had ignored him all day and ditched him the day before. But Jeremy was still his best friend and maybe he just hadn't known how to tell Michael about the SQUIP. Maybe he _was_ still anxious under that cool exterior and was nervous about telling him. Maybe he was still getting used to it. Maybe it was harder to hear with another voice in your head. Maybe Michael just didn't know how to rationalize this. But he still wanted Jeremy back. He was more anxious about losing his friend than anything else.

“Jeremy?” Michael's voice sounded pleading. “Jeremy, come on. Just talk to me?”

Jeremy didn't move. His facial expression had shifted to one of determination and it made Michael anxious.

“ _Please?_ ” Michael asked, in the smallest, most anxious, most pleading voice.

Jeremy walked past him without a word. He wore a confident smile, he swaggered without any awkwardness, and he didn't see Michael. Michael stared at where he had stood for a long time. Jeremy had just acted as if he didn’t see Michael. As if he _couldn’t_ see Michael. Except he had _just_ acknowledged Michael—for about thirty seconds, but acknowledgement all the same—so that meant Michael hadn’t somehow become invisible. He tried to ignore the anxious part of his brain—screaming about how Jeremy hated Michael, how he had _never_ liked Michael, it had all been an act because he pitied him, because Michael was _stupid_ , Michael wasn’t worth anybody’s friendship, _Michael didn’t have anybody who truly loved him_ —and focused instead on the logical part of his brain, which was certain that Jeremy had not been faking his friendship. What was happening here was that Jeremy had a supercomputer in his brain that didn’t want him to interact with Michael for some reason.

But why? And how could he get Jeremy back?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm notes yes
> 
> Basically, all of these anxious feelings that Michael is feeling are things I feel. Not EXACTLY since he is not an eighteen year old diabetic anxious depressed christian girl who is too nervous to go outside by herself but I gave him anxiety and depression so y'know similar enough (like the whole sitting-at-the-very-front thing oh my gosh I can't stand the idea of people TURNING to look at me it's so much easier at the front oh gosh)
> 
> Ms. Minto, Mr. Tucker, and Mr. Ward are all based on real teachers I've had (names changed obvs) and yes Ms. Minto and Mr. Tucker are that amazing and Mr. Ward is just that bad (HOOBOY I COULD TELL YOU SOME STORIES ABOUT MR. WARD)(he legit butchered a few people's names for the WHOLE SEMESTER including mine (I'm Jayce, pronounced like Jace not Jaycee, but apparently that's a hard concept to grasp to an old man) but I'm not just salty he's actually terrible). Alyssa, Louis Jr, and Mark are all based on kids from my youth group (Louis Jr does not actually deal discontinued soft drinks to my knowledge but he does dance A LOT)(but Mark is seriously that evangelical I don't go to the same high school as him but most of the youth do and they confirm he is way too spiritual XD).
> 
> Alyssa is actually my best friend and yes she IS that strange XD she's the sweetest person alive, like she's honestly just so comfortable to be around, but she's definitely a weirdo <3 all of the stories I mentioned were true (I can confirm I am part of the bread cult) and I didn't mean for her to become such a huge part of the plot (I just added her because she legit has a 7/11 addiction it's a problem so I thought it'd be funny for her to be "the girl at sev elev") but it's actually great because she's fun to write about XD
> 
> uhhhhh yeah I'm more excited about this fic than my diabetic!Jeremy fic (but I still love my diabetic!Jeremy fic don't get me wrong it's still going) so I hope you guys enjoy it too??? I love Michael with all my heart and he will be Happier at some point but for now :))))) suffering
> 
> I love kudos and reviews! Tell me if you want this to turn into a boyf riends fic eventually or no! (Or Michael and Jeremy shipped with other people idk boyf riends seems like the most popular ship in this fandom) and uh if you ever want to chat, hit me up on instagram or tumblr, I'm cupcakeofawesomeness :D


	3. A Girl That I'd Kinda Be Into

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael talks with Alyssa (a lot). Jeremy starts dating a real girl. Michael accidentally starts dating a real girl. Michael feels numb and anxious. 
> 
> (this chapter is very Alyssa centric??? sorry that wasn't really on purpose it just happened)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup, here's chapter three for you!
> 
> This chapter was really fun to write, even though I have a feeling most people won't like it lol but I love it so whatever :)

It's been two days since Jeremy has started acting like Michael was invisible and Michael was _desperate_ for conversation. Yes, he was socially anxious; still, he wasn't exactly introverted. It was hard for him to discern his personality type _exactly_ due to the fact that he was absolutely _terrified_ of people he didn't know well and constantly second-guessed himself. However, he always felt good sort of energy burst when he did hang out with or talk to people he knew. Normally, it would just be him and Jeremy, but now...

Now it wasn't. Which sucked, because he was _craving_ to talk to someone.

He didn't really have any other friends at school. Nobody had taken the time to get to know him like Jeremy had when they were young and then anxiety hit him like a bus. He usually kept to himself, having a closed off demeanour and listening to music specifically so others _wouldn't_ talk to him. Sometimes (okay, often times) he wished for more friends, but he couldn't will himself to start conversations with people, so that wasn't going to happen. He loved his parents, but he didn't exactly just want to hang out with them or talk to them about his stupid teenage problems. He had cousins who were okay, but they all lived back in the Philippines, so the time zone thing might be an issue.

It hit him once the bell rang for lunch. He didn't have _Alyssa's_ number. He considered her a friend—at the very least, a close acquaintance—and he was comfortable talking with her—or at least listening to her talk—and she did a _lot_ of talking. Maybe, if she didn't think it was weird, he could get her number during his 7/11 run today. Then, whenever he felt conversation-starved, he could text her instead of moping around about how Jeremy wasn't talking to him anymore.

He quickly shoved his headphones and hood on, tuning out the rest of the world in music, and headed across the street to the 7/11. He just hoped Alyssa was there today. If she wasn't, he wouldn't have anyone to talk to and he would probably drop all his money again. _Oh, he hoped she was there_...

“Heyyyy Michael!”

 _Thank goodness._ “Hey, Alyssa,” Michael said, pulling his headphones back down and waving to her. He ignored the few other kids in the store and leaned against the counter. “How's life?”

“Oh, I have to tell you about how my play was cancelled! It involves computers and a man jogging!” she exclaimed and immediately launched into the story, gesticulating wildly. She paused only once to ring up one other teenager’s purchase, and resumed until she and Michael were both out of breath from giggling. “So yeah! I can't audition for Sweeney Todd anymore, but I don't even care because it made a funny story.”

“That's amazing,” Michael agreed, grinning. He bit his lip, immediately second-guessing his plan. Was it too awkward to ask a girl for their number? Would she think he was hitting on her? He was gay and he _still_ worried about these things. Fuck anxiety. “Uh, hey can I have your number?” he blurted, deciding to just get it over with.

“Wait,” Alyssa said, holding up her hand seriously. Michael thought he might die of worry. “ _We don't already have each other's numbers?_ ” She gasped dramatically. “Unacceptable! Give me your phone.”

Michael couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. He almost couldn't believe he worried about it—it was _Alyssa_ after all—though he still felt anxiety annoyingly resting in his chest. They exchanged phones and numbers and Alyssa sent him a text to ensure she entered it correctly. She also let him know that his contact name was “Michael the Pacman Man”, which amused him immensely.

“Expect memes,” she warned him sternly, though she wore a large smile on her face.

“Thanks, Alyssa,” he said, grinning. He moved away from the counter as Jenna Rolan stepped up. “Uh, I'll grab my slushie now, but I look forward to the memes.”

“You better!”

* * *

His third block class was math, which was on the third floor. He usually had to  _book it_ upstairs to make it in time, since he and Jeremy sat together on the bottom floor, but now it was just him and... today, he didn't feel like it mattered. He had just gotten Alyssa's number, he should be happy. He was the opposite. Kind of. He was... empty.

It was the same feeling he had felt that morning before Jeremy ignored him. A strange nothingness— _sadness?_ —that created a new filter in which he viewed the world, a filter that made him... not care. It was as if he had taken off his glasses. Everything was blurry— _he checked, his glasses were still on his face_ —his senses were numbed. Nothing mattered— _but everything mattered?_ —he could sit here forever— _he couldn't though_ —sit on the stairs— _someone would find him eventually_ —just sit forever. The stairs led up to an exit that nobody used— _people_ did _use it sometimes_ —nobody even came down to the bottom floor— _there were classrooms down here and a big group of lockers, lots of people came down here_ —so nobody would find him— _someone would find him eventually!_ —he could sit and nobody would care— _he would get in trouble_ —and nobody would find him and he could stay here forever and just be nothing—

_BUT SOMEONE WOULD FIND HIM EVENTUALLY._

His anxious thoughts won out in the end. He stumbled to his feet as he realized that the bell had already rung. He was late. It was too late to go to class. It was too late. Too late, too late, too late! He ran up the stairs, nearly tripping over a couple steps when he heard voices coming from the hallway below, and pushed himself outside.

He gulped a breath of fresh air, running his hands through his hair. _He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe_. It was too late to go to class now and he couldn't stay at school, he couldn't. He forced himself to walk, walk somewhere, _anywhere_ , away from here. He couldn't see, he couldn't focus, _he didn't know what was going on_. He made it to his car, hands shaking too much to drive, so he simply sat in the driver's seat. _What did he do now?_

He recognized the weight of his headphones around his neck. Music. He could drown this out in music. But when he opened his phone, he noticed an unread text.

> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> hola pacman man :)

Alyssa. The text she had sent to make sure she got his number right. He had never responded. He could respond now. It would be a distraction. His fingers still shook as he typed out a response. He needed something to focus on. Something— _someone_ —to distract him from the overwhelming pounding in his chest.

> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> sup
> 
> uh
> 
> slushie girl?

He quickly turned on some music as he waited for her reply. He let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes when a song began to ring in his ears. He would be okay. _He would be okay_.

> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> yes

> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> ill think of something better
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> ill think of something WORSE
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> wow wounded
> 
> i ask for your number and this is how you repay me?
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> bye bye pacman man
> 
> see u NEVER MWAHAHAHHAHA
> 
> jk lol
> 
> how r the cows?
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> cows???????
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> loooool i forgot uve never seen me text
> 
> this is how i text
> 
> cows = u
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> uh okay lol
> 
> my cows r... fine??? haha

He wasn't going to worry Alyssa. He was fine. _He was fine_. The more he said it, the more it was true. He wasn't numb, he wasn't anxious, he was  _fine_.

> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> yes yes very good
> 
> how's jermy btw???
> 
> he never came to join my bread cult :(

_No, no, no, don’t bring up Jeremy_. Michael's fingers shook more. _Breathe_.

> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> uhhhh well he's being an ASSHOLE sooooooo
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> OH NO!!!!! D:
> 
> what happened?????

He was fine. He could talk about Jeremy and not worry Alyssa and not have a breakdown because he was _fine_. He was fine.

> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> i wish i knew???
> 
> he just started acting like i don't exist
> 
> like im fcuking invisible or something
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> u r the invisible woman michael
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> why woman?? :(
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> i couldn't think of a guy superhero whos invisible
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> uhhhhhhhhhh
> 
> yeah okay me either
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> like there’s invisible woman and like violet from the incredibles
> 
> who else is there?
> 
> probably lots idk superheroes lol
> 
> BUT WAIT
> 
> WHY IS JEREMY BEIMG A JERK SUDDENLY???
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> I WISH I KNEW

He wasn’t going to admit to Alyssa that it was (probably) because of a supercomputer talking to Jeremy inside his brain. He didn’t want to talk about the SQUIP and Alyssa wouldn’t believe it anyways. (And his anxiety still screamed that he wasn't fully sure it was because of the SQUIP. Maybe Jeremy just genuinely hated him now.)

> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> like ive only met him a few times when hes come by the store with u
> 
> but u two always seemed super close and he seemed really sweet???
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> yeah
> 
> he was sweet and anxious and sure he could be a bit jerky on occasion but so is everyone
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> excpet mE
> 
> jk XD
> 
> but uh yea he sounds great????
> 
> why the sudden change into full on jerky
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> it doesnt really make sense, right???
> 
> but uh it kinda makes me feel sad so maybe we could not talk about it rn???
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> OF COURSE!!!
> 
> we never have to talk about something ur not comfortable with :)

If he were straight, he would definitely have fallen in love with this girl.

> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> uh maybe you could tell me another stupid story to take my mind off of it???
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> UM YES OF COURSE
> 
> do u want to hear about how my house flooded???
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> wtf
> 
> sure

* * *

Now it had been a week since Jeremy had started ignoring him. Michael still wasn't quite used to it. He had stopped sitting near the band room, and would instead hang out with Alyssa at 7/11 until lunch was almost over and he would run up to his math class. (On the occasions that Alyssa wasn't there, he would sit in front of the door to his math class, listening to music and pretending that he wasn't anxious out of his mind.) He ignored Jeremy in the hallways and would get ignored right back. Socials was hardest, since they sat right next to each other. Still, Michael would just try to focus on whatever stupid extra credit video Mr. Ward was showing.

However, the strangest thing in all of this was the fact that Jeremy had actually scored a girlfriend. He and Brooke Lohst were officially an item. They would hold hands in the hallways, Brooke would lean on his shoulder happily during lunch, and Michael had even seen Jeremy give Brooke a peck on the lips before they went to their respective classes one day. Brooke seemed happily lovestruck whenever they were together and Jeremy seemed happy, but not... in love. Michael knew why.

Jeremy liked Christine. He had for years. Brooke was pretty and popular, nobody could deny it. Christine, however, was passionate, perky, poignant, and a phenomenal performer. That was, like, three extra Ps to describe Christine. (Four, if Jeremy had his way, as he would describe her as _perfect_.) Michael was sure that Brooke was a great person too—if she could express her own opinions around Chloe—but Christine was the one who truly had Jeremy's heart, no matter how much he pretended to like Brooke.

Deception wasn't Jeremy's thing. He could barely work up the nerve to string a coherent sentence together when he _wasn't_ lying. He could _almost_ lie to Michael, but Michael could see right through him. So it was _unnatural_ to watch as Jeremy effortlessly and confidently dated Brooke. But his eyes would still drift to Christine when he thought no one was looking. (Michael supposed he wasn't even a Someone in Jeremy's mind anymore... It was heartbreaking to think of.) He still liked Christine deep down and he was just setting up Brooke for an inevitable breakup. Jeremy wasn't the type of person to lead someone on like that. This wasn't the same Jeremy that Michael knew.

* * *

Michael hadn't meant to start dating Alyssa. He was _gay_ , of course he didn't mean to date her. He wasn't even aware that he _was_ dating her until Social Studies on Thursday.

“Michael.”

Michael pretended not to hear Mark as he whispered over the slideshow of Mr. Ward's family. He instead focused on trying to make wild guesses as to which babies were young Mr. Ward from a million years ago. This teacher had such bizarre and impossible extra credit assignments.

“Michael, I thought you were gay.”

Okay, Michael would bite.

“ _What_ are you talking about, Mark?” He gestured to the pride patch on his sleeve. “I know I’m going to hell or whatever, but—”

“Then why are you dating Alyssa?”

Michael spoke before he had fully processed what Mark said. “You know Alyssa?”

“We go to the same youth group. Plus she just knows _everybody_. I mean, if even _you_ , the kid who's only known as antisocial headphones kid, knows her...”

As Mark said this, Michael’s brain processed what he had said just seconds before about Michael dating Alyssa. Michael, the gay socially anxious kid who drowned out his worries in music, dating Alyssa, the outgoing Christian 7/11 cashier who was friends with everyone? It was ridiculous.

Wait.

 _Wait_.

Michael... _DATING_... Alyssa?

Pause.

Rewind.

“Wait, _dating_ Alyssa? Who thinks I'm dating Alyssa?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“Everyone,” Mark said simply. “You're not just antisocial headphones kid anymore; you're antisocial headphones kid with a girlfriend.”

Michael glanced over at Jenna, who was pretending to read her textbook while she typed out something on her phone. It suddenly occurred to him that she had definitely been in the 7/11 when he had asked Alyssa for her number the previous week. _And_ —he almost smacked himself for not realizing how it had sounded—she had probably been there earlier today when Alyssa had shared a chocolate bar with him and he had said “ _Alyssa, I swear I love you_.” He hasn't meant it in a romantic sense, and he was positive Alyssa had realized since she had laughed and replied with a joking “ _Oh, Michael, you're daddy AF. Just like Pennywise!_ ” Jenna had either genuinely misinterpreted the situation or simply decided that she wanted to pretend she had.

Michael didn't really understand why Jenna would have thought something like this was worth spreading. The kid that nobody knew and the girl who wasn't even in the school anymore. Really gossip-worthy, he was sure. But wait, if _he_ hadn't known about this... Did Alyssa know about this rumour going around? He surreptitiously pulled out his phone and began frantically texting, hoping that Mr. Ward wouldn't notice.

> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> uhhhh HEY
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> dont u have class
> 
> dont be a bad student pacman man :P
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> were just watchimg a wierd extra credit video
> 
> ill tell you about my fucking weord socials teach later
> 
> but rn
> 
> have you heard
> 
> about
> 
> uh
> 
> the rumour???
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> which one???? ull need to be moreee specific :)
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> the one about,,, us
> 
> specifically,,, us DATING
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> omg XD no but that sounds amazing
> 
> but r u not gay?????
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> yes
> 
> i mean yes i am
> 
> gay that is
> 
> i am gay yes
> 
> gay
> 
> 100%
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> oh thats what i thought XD
> 
> so even if we wre dating we would def not be dating lol
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> that... doesnt make sense but i get it maybe?? lol
> 
> also uhhh do you know mark????
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> i know like six marks u need to be specific :)
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> uhhhh idk his last name but hes in my socials class and said he goes to your youth group???
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> mark!!! >:(
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> ?????
> 
> why the angry
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> hes so christian
> 
> he out christians the rest of us
> 
> but in a way like wow im glad im not that christian thats over doing it lol
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> that is true
> 
> 100%
> 
> he scares me
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> everyone scares you :P
> 
> BUT!!!!
> 
> the real reason hes >:( is bc i just really want him to hate me
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> ????????
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> hes just so christian that he doesnt hate anyone!!!
> 
> so i want him to hate me lol
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> pretty sure he hates me
> 
> so try being gay
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> XD
> 
> hate to break it to u but he doesnt hate anyone >:(
> 
> but also srry michael but i am not gay??? wish i could change it but i cannot see girls as something i want to date lol
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> lol its all good i cant see girls as something i want to date eithrr
> 
> im glad youre not against me or anything tho
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> OF COURSE NOT!!! <3
> 
> like i believe in jesus and love him but that doesnt mean i dont believe in and love u too! :)
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> i fucking love you
> 
> like
> 
> FUCK
> 
> if i were straight
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> this is why ppl think were dating michael XD

* * *

Michael and Alyssa didn't really try to discredit the rumours about them dating. After all, Alyssa had graduated a couple years ago and Michael was a Nobody, so the rumour wouldn't last long. Being the nerds they were, they would call each other pet names and be a bit more cozy in public, acting as if they were actually in a relationship. It was something they laughed about when they were alone and Jeremy probably would have laughed too.

Jeremy. Now there was a name that, as much as Michael didn't like to think about it, he couldn't help it. Jeremy Heere, who _used_ to be his best friend. Who hadn't talked to him for  _thirteen days_. Who Michael couldn't help but wish was still his friend.

Michael blamed Jeremy for this strange numb feeling. He had started feeling numb more often, especially in the mornings. ( _Life didn't matter, he didn't need to wake up and face the day, it was so much easier to stay in bed, there were no responsibilities in bed._ ) It was sadness, but it also wasn't. He couldn't describe it any other way except that his whole body—all of his emotions—had been numbed and all that was left was this heavy nothingness. ( _His ceiling was speckled, he could stare at it with blurry vision forever, he could try to squint until it was clearer, his ceiling didn't matter but neither did anything else and his ceiling was the only thing he could bother to look at._ ) Sometimes anxious thoughts would get through, but he never had the energy to act on them. ( _He couldn't be late to school, but school was terrifying and his bed was not, his ceiling was not, he could try to count the speckles as they all blurred together in his vision, he had to go to school, but he couldn't move, he couldn't be late, but he was so heavy and it didn't matter._ ) It got to the point where he had actually skipped school on Monday and just laid in bed, staring at his ceiling, lost in thought until almost one in the afternoon. _Monday was the worst day of the week, even Tuesday was better than Monday, just one day home, him and his blurry ceiling, just one day._ ) He didn't understand what this feeling was, but he simply attributed it to Jeremy ignoring him, since that was the only thing that he could think would make him sad. Even though he wasn't fully _sad_. Even though, when he truly thought of it, he had days like this before Jeremy had left him, they were just far less frequent. Even though something was _definitely_ wrong with him.

But he didn’t know what was wrong, and Jeremy was ignoring him, so it was easier to place the blame on the boy. Jeremy was at fault, he was at fault. Jeremy was causing this numbness, nothing else. It was all Jeremy. If only Michael could believe that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this chapter was basically all about Michael and Alyssa's relationship, but the next chapter won't be, like, the next one is definitely back on track with Michael and Jeremy lol Even though all of you probably hated this, I loved it so much, Alyssa is SO fun to write XD
> 
> The thing about Michael being desperate for conversation is 100% me, like I am almost definitely an extrovert, or at the very least an ambivert, I used to think I was an introvert, but really I'm just really socially anxious and it's so HARD to talk to people, but I literally crave people and friendship and conversation and I always feel kind of rejuvenated by hanging around people. And since this fic is literally me shoving my feelings onto Michael, he gets that feeling too :)))) 
> 
> Thanks for reading this silly fanfic, I always love comments and kudos, I hope you had a great day! <3


	4. Can't Even Look It Up On The Internet Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael tries to figure out what a SQUIP truly is. School makes him more anxious than before. Texting first makes him nervous. Halloween looms closer and he is close to giving up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup my friends, I am almost finished binge-watching The Mentalist so to celebrate here's a new chapter!
> 
> Next chapter is Michael In The Bathroom so strap in and get excited for a mental breakdown kids

_Your search -_ **_squip_ ** _\- did not match any documents._

_Suggestions:_

  * __Make sure that all words are spelled correctly.__


  * _Try different keywords._


  * _Try more general keywords._



Michael's eyebrows furrowed in frustration at the google page. How could there genuinely be _nothing_? He tried again.

_Search:_ squiped _._

_Did you mean:_

**_squid squids squib scribd_ ** _?_

“No, Google, I don't mean _squib_ , I mean what I fucking said!” Michael threw his head back, rubbing his face tiredly. “How is there actually _nothing_ about it? On the _INTERNET_?”

It had been over three weeks since Jeremy had started ignoring him and Michael was getting antsy. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't just start hating Jeremy and moving on with his life. He just... He _needed_ his best friend back. So, about five minutes ago, he had begun a crusade to find out the truth behind these so-called SQUIPs.

Except he was already considering giving up his quest.

He used to think that if anything wasn't located on the first page of google, it was essentially a lost cause. Now, he knew that it was only a lost cause when the whole search engine would literally not recognize a single word. It was five letters and apparently those five letters were not in a sequence _anywhere_. He sighed, refining his search.

_Search:_ super something something??

_Oh, what the hell did SQUIP stand for again?_ Super... Super Quantum! Super Quantum, uh... Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor! That was it!

_Search:_ super quantum unit intel processor

_Your search -_ **_super quantum unit intel processor_ ** _\- did not match any documents._

_Suggestions:_

  * __Make sure that all words are spelled correctly.__


  * _Try different keywords._


  * _Try more general keywords._



“Okay, what the actual fuck,” Michael mumbled, refreshing his screen only to yield the same results. “How are there absolutely _no_ websites with that string of words? Even if it has nothing to do with a SQUIP, I should be getting _something_!” He shook his head in disbelief. “How much power do these things _have_?”

He searched several different combinations of words for another hour, including, but not limited to: _supercomputer pill, popularity pill, japanese pill, grey oblong pill, fucking asshole pill!!!, pill that forces your best friend to ignore you,_ and _how to get your best friend to notice you_. Needless to say, none of the results gave him what he needed. All he got was various pharmaceutical drugs, a couple websites about Japanese drug culture, and a wikihow article about how to make your best friend fall in love with you, complete with images. He ignored that one, knowing the search engine was just completely misunderstanding his desperation to have Jeremy talk to him again. He sighed when a new search result ( _fuck you squip man_ ) only brought him to another 'your search did not match any documents’ page. He might need to get more creative with his search.

* * *

Michael was in an actual library. His school library, but a library nonetheless. He thought that perhaps there might be a book about SQUIPs. Part of him doubted it. After all, it was an _incredible_ piece of technology—technology that honestly should be helping _super spies_ or something, instead of high school students, like what was up with that?—so if there wasn't anything about it on the internet, would there really be something in a book? However, if there was even a _possibility_ that there might be something here, he should try to find it.

Unfortunately, a computer search of the catalog showed no results for any books with the words _SQUIP_ , _super quantum unit intel processor_ , or _grey oblong pill_ in the title. He didn't have a clue what a book containing information about a pill that implanted a supercomputer into your head that made you “cooler” would really be called, or who the author would possibly be, and he wasn't about to go up to anyone to _ask_ , so he was at a loss. He continued searching strange strings of words in a sad attempt to figure out what book he was looking for.

“Michael!”

Michael jumped at his name being called at a volume loud enough to hear through his headphones (very impressive feat for someone in a _library_ ), but he couldn't help but smile slightly when he saw Ms. Minto behind him. “Hey, Ms. Minto.”

“How have you been?” she asked, sitting next to him as he hit enter to search another string of seemingly unrelated words again. She sounded happy to see him, but also worried. “You haven't been to school in a week.”

That was a topic he really didn't want to get in to. School had begun to slowly make him more anxious than usual, now that he had no friends. It had been less of a strange numbness that kept him in bed the past week, but more of a tightness in his chest that felt like his lungs were expanding rapidly and crushing his heart and ribs and esophagus and all of his other fucking organs. He felt so anxious, he felt so terrified. His chest was so tight and his shoulders were tight and his neck was stiff and just all of his muscles were so _tight_. Not to mention the fact that he could barely breathe. It was so much easier to stay in bed, it was so much easier to not go. The tightness would lessen after he resolved to stay home yet another day.

But he was here now and he felt as though all of his insides were going to get smothered by the tightness and his brain was going to shut down due to his thoughts flying by so fast he couldn't even register them.

“Michael... I don’t want to pry, but... Is this because of your friendship with Jeremy?” Ms. Minto asked gently, cautiously placing her hand on his sleeve. “I've just noticed that you two haven't been talking. At all.”

_Ah yes, another thing he didn't want to talk about._

“Yeah,” Michael mumbled, trying to come up with an excuse that wouldn't worry the teacher. He liked Ms. Minto, he didn't want her to worry about him. “Uh, yeah, we just... We had an argument.”

“An argument?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

“It was over something really stupid.” Michael forced himself to laugh. “I'm sure he'll talk to me again soon...”

“Was your argument... about his new, ah, his new confidence?”

“No!” Michael realized that his response may have been a bit too quick, as Ms. Minto raised as eyebrow disbelievingly. “I'm really happy that he's feeling more confident. We just, uh...” He glanced around to avoid Ms. Minto’s gaze and his eyes landed on his search bar. _Squip fucking turned my friend against me._ “We were arguing about SQUIPs.”

“About... squids?” Ms. Minto asked, obviously flummoxed.

“Uh, SQUIP. With a P,” Michael corrected. “It's a, ah, it's a...” He felt an idea forming in his head. “Well, we were arguing about what it actually is. See, he thinks it's a type of computer, but I thought it was a type of pill.” He forced another laugh, even though none of this felt funny. “See, it's stupid. So I thought that I would try to find out for sure what it was, so that he would maybe talk to me again.”

Ms. Minto still looked somewhat dubious of his lie, but she nodded. She obviously didn't think that such an argument would cause the two boys to completely stop talking, which was correct, but Michael put on a disheartened expression and her face softened a bit. “I'm so sorry to hear that, Michael. You two were always so close.”

“Yeah...” Michael muttered, glancing down at his hands. “So, uh, I guess you don't know anything about SQUIPs then?”

“Sorry,” Ms. Minto said, shaking her head. “But if I find anything out, you'll be the first to know.” She patted his shoulder before standing up. “Granted, you'll have to come to school to hear any information from me.”

Michael pouted. “I knew there'd be a catch.”

Ms. Minto laughed. “Good luck in your search, Michael.”

Michael very much doubted that he would.

* * *

As a last-ditch attempt to find _any_ information on the chill pills that had corrupted his best friend, Michael had resorted to actually asking everyone he knew (and was semi-comfortable talking to) about it. He had asked his parents (who predictably hadn't heard of it before), he texted a bunch of his cousins, he put out a tumblr post ( _and_ a facebook post of all things), and even sent out a message to the guy he occasionally played Warcraft with! As he waited for responses, he stared at the contact name his finger hovered above.

> **seven eleven bae**

For some reason, today he inexplicably felt anxiety about texting Alyssa. Feeling anxiety about texting, especially texting people _first_ , wasn't unusual, but usually Alyssa (and Jeremy) were exempt from this category. Today was unexplainably different. He felt like she was the same as everyone else he had texted. (It had taken him half an hour to work up the courage to text his cousins alone.) He didn't know what to say and he didn't want to bother her. Which was ridiculous—she was never bothered by him texting her before. But what if she had secretly always been bothered by him? What if she merely tolerated him because she pitied him? _What if she hated him?_

“FUCK ANXIETY!” he shouted, throwing his phone angrily (onto his bed—he wasn't about to actually chuck his phone across the room). He fell back onto his bed, rubbing his eyes and groaning furiously. “Why the fuck does this have to be so hard?”

His phone buzzed harshly and he scrambled to pick it up. He stared at it as it rung, biting his lip and furrowing his brow. He hated talking on the phone. He couldn't even really pinpoint why, it just made him feel like vomiting. If it had been a number he didn't recognize, he would've had no qualms about letting it ring until the call dropped (he was anxious about hanging up on people as well), but the name **mama just killed a man** stared back at him and the fact that it was his mom made him swipe the answer button. He turned on speaker phone as well, something that made him slightly less anxious. Maybe because then he didn't have to have the phone at his ear, which felt vulnerable for some reason.

“Hey, mom,” he said, holding the phone in front of him.

“ _Hi, Michael, honey. I just wanted to ask if you could quickly check to see if you can find my grocery list anywhere. I forgot it and now I'm blanking on what we needed._ ”

“Sure thing, mom. You couldn't have texted?”

“ _Oh, I'm so sorry, sweetheart! I forgot you don't like talking on the phone!_ ”

_So my feelings are as trivial as your grocery list?_

Whoa. Where the fuck did _that_ come from? He didn't really think that. His mom was great and just because she was a bit forgetful didn't mean that his feelings were _trivial_ to her. His mom loved him. She did.

Michael shook his head and said, “I don't mind, mom. I'll find your list and text you what's on it.”

“ _Thank you so much, honey. Oh, also, Auntie Roma is sending some dried mangos soon! You should give some to Jeremy next time he comes over._ ”

_If_ he ever came over again. Maybe Michael could just bribe him with some Authentic Filipino Dried Mangos.

“Sure, mom. I'll go find your list. Bye.”

“ _Bye, sweetie!_ ”

Michael waited for his mom to hang up and sighed. What was going on with his brain today? Not being able to text Alyssa and thinking his mom was being careless with his emotions? His anxiety was getting worse and he had no clue what to do with it.

* * *

The issue about being too anxious to text Alyssa first was resolved by her texting him first the next day.

> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> hola :)))
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> hola!

_Fuck, did the exclamation mark make it sound too eager? I mean, I_ am _eager, but is that weird? Will she think I'm weird? Maybe she'll hate me and never talk to me again and—_

> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> how r u??? :D

_See, Michael, you're fine. Ugh, you're so stupid, stop overreacting._

> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> uh im fine but i actually had a question for you
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> yeah??? :)
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> do you know anything about squips?
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> they live underwater and thats about it XD

_Is she making fun of me? No, no. She just thought I meant squids. She's not making fun of me._

> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> no not squids
> 
> squip with a p
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> srry pacman man but i have Not
> 
> what is it???
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> uhhh

_Will she believe me? Should I actually tell her? Maybe I should lie. She'd never know. But... I_ should _tell her the truth..._

> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> its an acronym
> 
> it stands for uhhh
> 
> super
> 
> quantum
> 
> unit
> 
> intel
> 
> processor
> 
> its this pill that plants a supercomputer in your brain and tells you what to do
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> wow!! that sounds like the plot of a terrible book XD
> 
> or a great musical tbh
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> i know it sounds fake but okay
> 
> but its actually real
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> really???
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> yeah
> 
> jeremy took one
> 
> thats why hes been a jerk suddenly
> 
> his squip has been forcing him to ignore me
> 
> well i think
> 
> he could just hate me idk
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> im sure he doesnt hate u!
> 
> but wow
> 
> no offense but

_—she doesn't believe me. She thinks I'm stupid and she's never going to talk to me again—_

> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> jeremy thats the stupidest thing to do ever XD

_Calm the fuck down, Michael, she's fucking_ agreeing _with you. No need to freak out during every interval._

> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> i mean
> 
> its like how white people always do stupid things in horror movies
> 
> but this is real life XD
> 
> who would want to eat a supercomputer and let it force u to do things
> 
> thats kinda like a weird fetish????
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> OH MY GOSH
> 
> IT IS
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> IKR XD
> 
> but seriously jermy
> 
> how much more white could u get???
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> hes so white
> 
> white best friends amiright??
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> yes XD
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> okay but wait
> 
> do you actually believe me???
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> yeah of course!
> 
> unless ur lyng
> 
> then shame on u michawl XD
> 
> lying to an indian thats racist XD
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> i swear im not lying (or racist, im filipino ecuadorian lol)
> 
> im actually so glad you believe me omg
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> apparently im what they call...
> 
> gullable XD
> 
> but honestly that sounds more realistic than jeremy just hating u randomly
> 
> like technology is crazy
> 
> look at ur phone
> 
> how tf does it work????
> 
> technology is crazy there HAVE to be weird fetish pills
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> i cant get over the fetish thing
> 
> it totally IS a fetish omg
> 
> jeremy has sme fucked up daddy kink or something
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> just like me and pennywise! <3 <3 <3
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> would you fuckig VORE pennywise
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> YES >:(((( XD
> 
> but wait michawrl

_Oh no oh no ohno—_

> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> like seriously
> 
> how can i help???
> 
> with u and jeremy i mean

_Why is she so sweet?_

> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> idk... i wish i knew...
> 
> there might not even be a way to fix it...
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> its a computer right??? there has to be an off switch
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> that makes sense...
> 
> but i wouldnt know the first thing about finding that “off switch"
> 
> therss NOTHING onlinr about it
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> nothing????
> 
> its the INTRNET
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> ikr...
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> well i can ask around
> 
> maybe somene at one of my many youth groups will know about it :)))
> 
> **michael the pacman man**
> 
> yoyre incredible
> 
> thank you
> 
> **seven eleven bae**
> 
> of course!! <3
> 
> ill let you kmow if i find anything :)

* * *

Jeremy still hadn't spoken to him and it was almost Halloween. That made nearly two whole months. Nearly two months of invisibility. Nearly two months of his best friend acting like he didn't exist. Nearly two months of Jeremy being popular and Michael being even more of a loser.

Maybe he should just give up.

He had Alyssa and... Well, he had Alyssa. She was enough. Jeremy had been enough before, what was the difference if he got replaced by Alyssa? A lot, since they were two different people with very different personalities. Alyssa was a friend, turning into a very good friend, but she could never fill the spot of “best friend” for Michael. He loved her, but she was constantly busy with musical theatre or ballet or church or other friends. Plus her phone was constantly on two percent so he couldn't even rely on her to be available to text. She was amazing when they did find time to hang out or text, but frankly, she would never be Jeremy.

But maybe he didn't need a best friend at all. He could live his life with just Alyssa and his family and his acquaintances and his music. Who needed a best friend anyways? Who needed someone he could constantly rely on? Who needed someone who had similar interests as him? Who needed someone who he could have stupid inside jokes with? Who _needed_ someone who understood his fucked up brain? Who—

He sighed and flopped back onto his bed. _Who was he kidding?_ He _needed_ Jeremy back.

_But what if you_ don't _get him back?_

His eyes popped open at this thought. What _if_ he didn't get Jeremy back again? What if he didn't get Jeremy back _ever?_ What if the SQUIP just crashed in Jeremy's brain forever? He realized he was breathing fast and swallowed in an attempt to calm down. He had barely survived two months of being Jeremy-less, how would he be able to survive being Jeremy-less his _whole life?_

Jeremy had always talked about wishing he could do more than survive, wishing he could live a life where he wasn't just going through the motions, but one where he was actually happy and proud of his existence. Michael had always understood where he was coming from—not being bullied would be nice, no mental illness would be even better—but he had always just tried to content himself with the life he had been given. It was the simple pleasures, right? Nineties music, pacman, roller skates... He was fine with just surviving. He didn't _need_ to do more than survive. But now, Michael wished he could just survive at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured that SQUIPs would have the power to completely be unsearchable on google. I mean, if they can discontinue a soft drink flavour, they can definitely make certain keywords yield no results. 
> 
> Also I adore Alyssa, she is my best friend, she's such an amazing person, but yeah she can be somewhat unreliable, just with the fact her phone is CONSTANTLY dead, I kid you not, idk how she survives, but also she has NO time management skills, she was late to her own birthday party XD
> 
> Oh also, dried mangoes are a GIFT. Our church is v diverse and since my dad's the lead pastor and my grandpa used to be the lead pastor (he literally retired at the beginning of this month) we get lots of gifts and often when our lovely Filipino friends go back to the Philippines, they bring us back dried mangoes and I Love Them. They're always better when they're straight from the Philippines too idk man
> 
> Anyways thanks for reading!! I really appreciate it!! I hope you all liked it and please leave kudos and/or comments if you'd like because I'm always really excited to get sweet comments :D


End file.
